


A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

by actualPrincess



Series: Tales from The Apartment [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, POV Second Person, Pining, dirk draws porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualPrincess/pseuds/actualPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake finds Dirk's sketchbook while looking for a tool. It's not the sketchbook he was expecting, much less one Dirk ever wanted him to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Your name is Jake English and you’re currently in your best friend Dirk’s room. Conveniently located next to your room and connected by a fire escape, which you’d taken to get here, the window is still open as evidence of that. Really, you could have used the door in the hall, but you’ve developed a habit of using the fire escape if you’re just going between rooms. It’s easier that way, and often the two of you will simply meet on the escape to talk, if Dirk is out there to smoke or you need the fresh air. Tonight you’re in here alone. It isn’t the first time you have been, but usually Dirk is in here, hovering.

You’d been rooting around for a screw driver, your projector had stopped working and you didn’t have anything small enough to open it up. Dirk had so many tools, he was bound to have what you needed. However, you’d been stopped when you came across one of Dirk’s many notebooks. He leaves them scattered about occasionally, mostly because that way he’s always in reach of one when he has a new idea for a blueprint. You’ve always loved seeing all the different drawings and sketches for future robots and inventions. They’re just superb, Dirk’s always been a good artist, his sketches nearly always look like the final product.

So of course when you found this little leather bound notebook set out on Dirk’s workbench, you just had to flip through. If it’s set out, he must have only recently closed it, which means there must be a new blueprint or something! You can’t wait to see what your friend has cooked up in his head this time. You flip open the cover eagerly, and take a seat on Dirk’s bed. You haven’t actually seen this notebook before, you wonder if it’s new.

The first page is blank, typical, you flip to the next one. It’s not a blueprint, that’s for sure. It’s a drawing, the nude torso of a male figure. There’s a lot of work put into it, the sketch is shaded and detailed, you wonder who the model was. You didn’t think Dirk was taking a figure drawing class. This must be a class sketchbook then, that’s even better! You haven’t been privy to Dirk’s creative sketchbooks since high school, but of course then it had been mainly cartoons. You flip to the next page, another torso, this time in a different pose. The next page is a back, the sketch dipping a little lower than the others; there’s a low hanging towel around the figure’s waist, precariously help up by the figure’s hand. You flip the page, and stare down at it as it stares back up at you. A pair of eyes, incredibly detailed. Dirk must have put a lot of work into this page for them to look this much like a photograph. On the back of the page is an open mouth, you think that it’s saliva stringing the lips together and dripping off the tongue.

The next page startles you, a fully nude figure, their back turned to the observer. They’re stretching their arms, it looks like they’ve been interrupted, but have yet to notice the intrusion. It’s less detailed than the others, but you can still trace the faint outline of muscle down the figure’s back. It’s a rather flattering picture. Next page, you suppose. Another male figure, this one fully clothed and leaning over something, the focal point of the sketch obviously on their bottom. Still, everything is meticulously shaded and outlined. Yet another sketch with a lot of care put into it.

You keep going, this isn’t anything too bad, nude figures were common in artist’s sketchbooks, you knew that! It was about studying the human form, nothing sexual. The next page was, a butt. Well, there’s a towel in the process of being wrapped around it, or perhaps unwrapped, but it’s a fairly clear view. Perhaps you should see about getting into this class, their models are certainly attractive. The next page is, another ass, less hidden from view. Then a frontal view of the man’s towel slipping off, showing a little too much skin. The figure’s hand beginning to grasp the fabric to pull it back into place. Easy as pie, there isn’t even a face to identify the figures with, it could be any man on campus modeling for this class. There, no embarrassment about running into the chap.

You turn the page and nearly drop the book in shock. The drawings have taken a significant leap into the erotic. You close the book and glance towards the door, you really should put this down before Dirk walks in, you now have the distinct feeling this isn’t a public sketchbook. You open the book again and stare down at the page. On it is another nude figure. He’s on his knees, face pressed to the ground looking back at the viewer, with his hands tied behind his back. Or he would be looking back, the face is erased, you wonder why. Surely it couldn’t be worse than, the lovely view of the figure’s back side you’re being given. The only words you have to describe the sight is “freshly fucked” which you don’t use lightly. The figures ass is stretched open and dripping, what you can only assume is cum or lubrication, most likely the former as the figure’s dick is spent and dripping between his legs. You can feel your face heating up the longer you stare at the picture, looking closer there’s what could only be a hand print on the figure’s ass. You turn the page quickly, and you’re met with another figure.

More pictures of a similar caliber, each with the main figure in a different position, never with the person they’d been intimate with. Then the pictures changed to the figure masturbating. One with him fingering himself, another with a toy, several angles of various toys being used. You spend a little too much time looking at each, wondering who Dirk had gotten to model for him, if he’d used himself, why not one of the figures had a face.

Finally, you get to what you only assume is the most recent sketch, seeing as it’s only a little past half done. There are two figures, one which you’ve come to recognize as the same one through each sketch, the other only partly there. It’s missionary, with hands from the unseen second figure holding the legs of the other up as they fuck him. Your eyes trail lightly up the figure, stopping at the face. It’s there, which means all the others have been meticulously erased instead of left out. The figure appears to be in the throws of passion, mouth open and drooling slightly, a faint blush on the cheeks and the eyes half lidded. Though the eyes are only barely penciled in. You lean closer to get a better look, maybe identify the man that is filling your best bro’s sketchbook, only to have said book yanked out of your hands.

Dirk does not look amused. In fact, he looks furious, and scared, and a little confused. It’s the most emotion you’ve been able to read from him in a long time. Before you can say something, apologize, ask who the figure was, try to explain why you’re in his room in the first place, you’re nearly thrown out onto the fire escape. Dirk slamming the window shut behind you and locking it with a definite ‘click’. You quickly head back to your room to take care of your “problem”, and was it just your imagination or did the last figure look a little like you?

***

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you’re panicking. Jake is never allowed in here again, at least not unsupervised. You glance down at the page he’d been open too and mentally curse yourself for leaving this out in the open. To you, it’s obvious who the figure is, it’s your best friend. Though you can’t remember seeing what he looks like during sex, years of guessing and imagination pay off. Not to mention now that you live with Jake you see him walking around half naked nearly every day, and that has been more of a stress than you’d thought it would be. On the plus side your sketches are more accurate. At least, the muscle and bone structure is accurate now, and you can see how he actually moves better. It’s the best thing to come out of living with Jake, or so you’d thought. Now it seemed like the worst idea in the world to use a live model instead of your imagination. At least most of the sketches didn’t have Jake’s face on them, you’d started erasing them after Roxy found your first sketchbook. That, and it always felt more creepy to see Jake’s face on some of these drawings than to just know it was his body.

But Jake had found your sketchbook, not even your normal one, the one that was strictly not safe for work drawings. Of course you had expected anyone coming in here to have the common decency not to just go through your notebooks, but you suppose Jake wasn’t really aware of sketchbook etiquette. You’ve shown him nearly every sketch in your other notebooks, he must have thought this was one of them. Which meant this was entirely your fault. You are screwed beyond belief if Jake recognized himself. You have to burn this notebook, burn the evidence in case Jake comes around to confirm his suspicions.

“There’s some pretty messed up shit in that notebook bro.” Comes a monotonous robotic voice from a small aluminum cube on your work bench. The metal surface lights up with the familiar red eye icon your auto responder has adopted. You hadn’t realized he’d had his voice box on.

“Let’s just burn it, pull up Crocker’s policy on small fires.” You say closing the notebook again.

“Small fires permitted solely on the grounds that they are within the confines of a fireplace provided by the apartment complex, no fires may be lit on the grounds within the complex otherwise.” Hal says immediately, pausing briefly before continuing, “Burning it isn’t going to stop this train wreck from smashing right into your station bro.”

“Fuck, you think I don’t know that? He saw everything Hal, there’s no way he’s stupid enough or oblivious enough not to recognize his own ass.” You yell at the cube, shoving the sketchbook under your pillow.

“Willful ignorance is bliss, and English has enough of that to power a third word country. We may have found a new renewable resource in your brocrush.” Hal replies calmly. It’s times like these when you remember how much you hate yourself, especially the thirteen year old version.

“Thanks for not saying anything while he was…” You sigh, sitting down on your bed where Jake had been. 

“You think I’m going to try and stop him? You two are like my own personal soap opera, but gayer and stupider.” Hal says, as you lean over you knees to press your hands under your shades and against your eyes.

You shouldn’t be feeling turned on by almost being caught with this, because you really don’t need that shit right now.

“Would you like me to run a few scenarios or remind you of our mutual and disturbing kinks?” Hal chimes ‘helpfully’.

“Run a scenario on how completely fucked I am.” There’s a small noise from Hal as he thinks/processes.

“Shall I wait for you to get your pants off or just dive right in?”

“Just run the damn numbers.” you groan from behind your hands.

**Author's Note:**

> How much can I have Dirk fuck up before an actual relationship starts? Questions? Comments? Want to know more about the au? Just want to say high? Message me at maintaining-sanity.tumblr.com


End file.
